


Orion

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family Feels, Friends to Enemies, M/M, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-05-16 06:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19312204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: “Now tell me,” she says, “what’s the lucky boy’s name?”“Alex Manes,” he says.The plate shatters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: How about an AU where Mara raised Michael in Roswell.

Michael shuffles out when the counselor tells him, trying not to itch at his forearm. Hopefully this’ll go fast. He hates talking and risking the feeling of rejection. Especially now that Max and Isobel can check on him. He doesn’t want them to pity him. He shuffles into the room, looking down and hoping this will go fast.

He doesn’t expect the blonde woman to burst into tears.

His heart sinks. It took him months to make Sister Bernadette cry. No wonder no one wants to adopt him. The woman shoves past the two camo clad dudes who quickly confer on their walkie talkies. Michael has no choice but to look at her as she crouches in front of him. She’s perfect, like a mom should be in every book he’s read or story he’s told himself. She looks like Anne Evans, Max and Isobel’s perfect mom. This rejection is gonna hurt really bad. He’s bracing himself for a hug and is surprised when she holds up a hand.

Instinct tells him to put his palm to hers.

He doesn’t have the words to explain what happens next and won’t for some time.

But in an instant they’re both crying.

“Mom?”

* * *

 

She nods and he throws himself into her arms. He’s safe. He’s home. His knees buckle and she holds him tighter, whispering into curls. She’s perfect and not because of any storybook. She’s perfect because she’s his. He sobs and sobs and she holds him until he’s in her lap and she’s rocking him, even though at eleven he’s too big to be rocked like a baby. As she hums she covers his forearm with her hand and the pain just goes away. When the big guys come back, he stands up and she follows, tucking him into her side though Michael manages to get slightly in front of her.

“Your probation stipulates that you are confined to Roswell,” the guy reminds her, “the kid too.”

“His name is Michael,” his mother says coldly.

“Right. You and Michael are confined to Roswell barring special permission,” he says, “do you have any questions?”

“Can we leave now?” She asks and Michael doesn’t know about having a mother but he knows a rhetorical question when he hears one. The guys nod and his mom keeps a hand on his shoulder, “let’s go get your things.”

“I don’t have any,” he says honestly. She looks surprised and he feels embarrassed, “we wear our good outfit when people come to adopt us. So we look our best and get chosen.”

“Then let’s go home,” she says.

Michael is suddenly exhausted and can only manage a nod.

Home sounds really, really nice.

* * *

“Tell me about Antar?” He asks.

Nora, his mom, lays on bed with him and looks up at the plastic stars she’s tacked up to his ceiling. Michael looks at her. Even in her pjs she’s the most beautiful women he’s ever seen.

“Well, there’s an ocean that’s red,” she says, “and it’s bouncy, like jello. And in the sky there are three moons. Not one like there is here,” she thinks for a moment, “there’s good people and bad people.”

“And my dad?”

“And your dad,” she affirms.

“What about Max and Isobel’s parents?”

“His mom is up there,” she says, “his dad is gone.”

Michael feels sad about that, sad too that he doesn’t get to meet his dad yet. Or possibly ever. But his mom is there and that matters even more somehow. He shifts towards her so even laying down he can put his head on her shoulder and she kisses his curls.

“I think it might be time to get you a haircut,” she says, winding one around her finger.

“Mo-om,” he whines.

* * *

“I can’t do it!”

“Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t! Stop asking me to!” Michael shakes, “I don’t want to!”

His mom crouches in front of him and grasps his shoulders, showing him how to take deep breaths until the storm inside him is calmer. Michael’s still angry but the rage isn’t as blinding. And the wall that is the only way he knows to keep his powers from going haywire is less permanent suddenly.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” his mom tells him, “I’m here. No-one is going to hurt you.”

“What if I can’t?” He says.

“You can,” she promises, “maybe not today, maybe not right now, but I promise you can,” she takes the kitchen knife and slowly traces it alongside the back of her forearm, “just try.”

He focuses as hard as he can on it, like she tells him. And for a moment nothing happens. She’s turned all the circuit breakers off, so the only way he knows it’s working is when the flashlight on the counter flickers. He focuses harder and he feels the flesh start to knit together. Her skin pulls together and when he steps back, breathing hard, she looks at her forearm and smiles. He fumbles for a paper towel and wipes off the blood, hoping that he never has to see it again.

* * *

His mom’s a badass, he thinks as he watches her destroy whatever this monster is. Besides him Isobel sobs and he and Max hold her tighter. This thing that’s been poking in her head doesn’t get her for another nanosecond. She’s theirs. And his mom is going to make it pay.

She leaves it broken and twisted and two of the camo clad guys take it away.

“You’re okay,” his mom says, crouching in front of Isobel, “I know that was scary, but you’re going to be okay.”

“Who was that?” Isobel demands shrilly, “why was he in my head?”

“He’s someone who wanted to hurt people,” his mom says, “someone from our world.”

“I hate our world!”

He and Michael hold her tighter and his mom nods.

“All worlds are complicated,” she stars and then stops, “he shouldn’t have done what he did to you,” she says, “it’s okay to hate him.”

“I hate him!”

Isobel pushes away from them and hugs Nora tightly as the only adult thing from their world. Nora hugs her back and even though Michael feels slightly jealous in a very childish way, he focuses instead on hugging a very shaken Max.

* * *

“I like a kid at school,” Michael says.

“Really?” His mom turns with a smile and Michael prays that this is going to go alright, “what’s her name?”

“Him,” he corrects.

“Sorry,” his mom says, her smile not dropping, “what’s his name?”

Michael’s heart pounds faster, if possible. She’s not upset. She’s drying dishes and she hasn’t kicked him out or called him disgusting. She’s smiling like she’s amused her son has his first crush and wild, desperate hope pounds through Michael’s chest.

“You’re not upset?”

His mom sets down the plate and comes over, crouching down so she’s on his level as he sits at the kitchen table doing his homework. Michael puts the pencil down and turns towards her. He’s surprised by how surprised she is. It seems that they’ve both caught each other off guard. But his mom is very serious when she looks at him.

“Of course not,” she says, “Michael, why would I be upset you like boys?”

“I dunno,” he says with a shrug, “other kids—“

“You are not other kids,” she tells him, “and I’m not other moms,” she looks at him seriously, “you can love whoever you love. And I support you a hundred percent.”

Michael can’t talk through the lump in his throat and only manages a nod before he scoots off the chair and falls into her arms. His mom hugs him again, like she did the first day she took him home. He feels young and relieved all over again, even though he’s now almost taller than her. Her arms are still perfect around him. Finally though Nora pulls back and they wipe each others cheeks before he returns to math and she turns back to the dishes.

“Now tell me,” she says, “what’s the lucky boy’s name?”

“Alex Manes,” he says.

The plate shatters.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael stares at the broken plate.

 

“Mom?”

 

 He’s never felt so unsure in his life. His mom just said that she was okay with him liking boys, she just put away a fear that he’s been having since he figured it out. But all the joy of that is shattered. Like the plate. Michael quickly gathers the pieces up with his powers, making sure there’s no fragments on the ground for them to get cut on. He ignores his math homework and comes to his mom. She’s gripping the edge of the sink, her face is full of pain and Michael doesn’t understand. This is what he was afraid of when it came to telling her, this is how he feared she would look. But she had just been hugging him. 

 

“Is this because of—“

 

“No,” she says quickly, “Michael, no, of course not,” she wipes under her eyes, “that name is just one I haven’t heard in a very long time,” she looks at him, “I didn’t even know you knew any of the Manes boys.”

 

Michael shuffles his feet, embarrassed. He and his mom don’t lie to each other, but he’s guarded this secret. He never mentions Alex. Max and Alex are friends but Max is kind of oblivious to anyone’s crushes but his own. It’s easy to throw him off by making jokes about Max’s love of biology. Then his mom just swings to lecturing Max on the dangers of human-alien hybrids and how he needs to take special precautions. ‘Specially Precarious Biology’ is something that makes Max turn bright red now, so Michael says it as often as he can. Now though he feels guilty because he can hide everything from everyone, but not from his mom. Not very well anyways. 

 

Michael holds up a hand instead. 

 

His mom dries hers and looks at him, giving him a moment to arrange his thoughts before she touches their palms together. He concentrates on Alex and how nice he is. How sarcastic. How he always makes Michael laugh. He shows his mom how Alex dropped next to him in class one day and that was that. He shows her how beautiful Alex is, in his bright clothing and his lined eyes. How good he must taste because he always has about a dozen lip balms on him at any given time. He tries to frame everything about the crush he has on Alex so she’ll understand, though he knows the memory of the plate dropping won’t go away anytime soon. When he’s shared what he wants, he taps the back of her hand with his pointer and slips their fingers apart. His mom looks at him and Michael can see she gets it. 

 

“That was beautiful,” she says, “thank you for sharing,” she smiles and then turns for the dishes. 

  
“What do you think?” He asks.

 

“About?”

 

“Me having a crush on Alex,” he presses.

 

“I think it’s sweet,” she says, “first crushes always are,” she smiles, “have you two talked much?”

 

“Some,” Michael says, feeling his own face grow hot. Something about that seems to relieve his mom and she relaxes, “I wanted to see how you felt about this before I told a guy I liked him.”

 

The relaxation is gone and Michael is starting to get more and more suspicious that the issue isn’t him liking boys, it’s him liking this boy. Michael is a curious person, he always has been. Giving him a mystery to solve is something that always distracts him—for as long as it takes him to solve it. Which isn’t long. Usually. But he’s never seen his mom act this way about a boy. About anyone. Something about the name Manes is making her nervous. Which is weird because as far as he can tell Alex’s brothers are just the regular kind of dick and his dad is a tightly wound military guy. Alex always jokes about how much he tries to piss him off and see if he can crack. Michael doesn’t think people like Jesse Manes crack, they just break. He wouldn’t want to see that. 

 

“Just be careful,” she says, “I don’t want to see you get your heart broken,” she tells him.

 

“Alex wouldn’t do that,” he says, “he’d let me down so gently I wouldn’t even feel it,” he adds, making a whooshing sound. His mom rolls her eyes, but her smile is back, “seriously you’re okay with this? With everything?”

 

“I’m fine with you loving whoever you want to love,” she promises, seeming to sense he needs the verbal words as well as the emotions he felt over the bond, “I’m just worried about you getting your heart broken by a guy who may not feel the same.”

 

Michael’s stomach drops.

 

Okay, yes, he had considered that maybe Alex didn’t like him back but he hadn’t expected to hear it brought out like that. Roswell’s a small town, he hasn’t done any of the things that everyone else does where they ask if someone thinks the other person might like them. He didn’t want it getting back to his mom. And she might accept it, but he can’t poll the audience if a boy might like him. Not in Roswell New Mexico. He has to fly blind. But now that it seems like his mom doesn’t want him to be with Alex anyway, he doesn’t know if he wants to fly at all. Something shows on his face because his mom opens her mouth but Michael quickly shakes his head.

 

“I’m gonna take out the trash,” he says and quickly grabs the bag, fleeing outside. 

 

Outside the air is cooler and Michael takes a deep breath, hoping it will stop the churning in his stomach. His mom doesn’t want Alex to like him back. She doesn’t want him to like Alex either. And it bugs Michael. He really, really wants his mom to like Alex. Not as much as he wants Alex to like him, but it’s pretty high up there. Putting the bag in the bin, Michael looks out at the quiet street he calls home. Most nights it’s the best place ever but tonight it doesn’t seem that way. This is what Michael was afraid of, when he realized he had to tell his mom. He can’t lie to her, she’s his mom. He wants to go back inside and crawl into her lap and have everything go back to how it was. He just wishes that Alex wasn’t so perfect. That the moon didn’t look so great in his hair—

 

He freezes and before he can dive behind the garbage cans, Alex is looking at him. 

 

Alex is still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen but his makeup is smudged in long black trails down his cheeks. He’s got a shiner and one of his arms is wrapped around his chest. The minute their eyes connect and Michael can’t duck and hide, Alex straightens up—or tries to—and scrubs under his eyes in the most discrete way he can. Like he’s daring Michael to say something. Michael does the dumbest thing he possibly can do and waves. Suddenly hiding behind the cans isn’t enough. He’s got to start using his power to blast to fucking China. Alex checks behind him and when he sees no-one he starts moving towards Michael. Like he’s interesting in why Michael is waving. Which Michael realizes he’s still doing. Like an idiot. Apparently his mom can rest easy at night because Alex is definitely not interested in idiots. Even as he shambles over to talk to one because Alex is nice. 

 

“Hey,” he says. 

 

“Hi,” Michael replies, “it’s kind of late for a walk,” he remarks. Alex shrugs and winces, “are you—“

 

“I’m fine,” he says shortly and then shakes his head, “I’m fine,” he repeats, his voice softer, “sorry, it’s been a long night.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Michael says, “it’s none of my business,” he promises him, “but I’m standing out here taking out the trash so obviously I’m going to stick my nose in it.” 

 

“Going for old lady already?” Alex asks, his lips quirking into a smile. 

 

“Obviously,” Michael deadpans, “just gotta go raid my mom’s wardrobe,” he glances over his shoulder, “don’t tell her I said that.” 

 

Alex studies him for a moment before the quirk of his lips turns into a grin which turns into something very close to a laugh. Michael’s sore heart is immediately picked up, dusted off and thrown to soar in the sky. He’s a fucking bird if he can make Alex laugh like that. Though the sound is over far too soon and Alex winces, putting his hand on his ribs. He tries to push the pain off but it doesn’t go as fast this time. There’s something familiar about it, something that makes the long healed scar on Michael’s forearm itch. 

 

“Actually I’m glad you’re here,” Michael says, “I got stuck on the math homework,” he adds, “maybe you could help me?”

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Alex says. 

 

Michel frowns.

 

“You practically teach that class,” Alex says, “I don’t think you got stuck on anything.” 

 

Michael thinks about Alex and he thinks about his mom and he wonders if this is what it means to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. But his mom has taught him to do the right thing, even when it’s hard. She makes lemonade and charms the camo clad guys who show up periodically. She doesn’t begrudge them for whatever has them in this situation, even though it would be easy to. So Michael takes a deep breath. 

 

“Yeah but I just came out to her so my head’s kind of all over the place.”

 

Surprise flares in Alex’s eyes and maybe, just maybe, there’s a little respect in there. Michael can only hope. He has to fight not to chew his lip as he looks at Alex and waits for his response. He tries desperately not to immediately think of the worst case scenario. Maybe Alex will just call him a freak but something about him softens. 

 

“How did she take it?”

 

“Okay,” Michael says, not willing to fully lie and not willing to explain she was fine before he said Alex’s name, “she had no idea.”

 

“Small towns at work,” he says. Michael nods. Alex hesitates, “I can’t stay for long.”

 

“That’s fine, stay for whatever you can,” Michael says.

 

Alex hesitates for only a moment longer before he nods and follows Michael back into his house.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael’s brain catches up with him when he gets through the front door.

 

His mom dislikes Alex.

 

He’s about to bring the boy she dislikes—who he does like—into the kitchen. They’re not going to have any plates left at this rate. In the hallway, under some proper light, Alex is still beautiful but Michael can see the damage on his face. If he tells Alex his mom is home, Alex is going to run. He doesn’t know if his mom would let him stay, but once he’s there he knows she won’t kick him out. He has to use the element of surprise, there’s no other way. So he pretends to be casual and brings Alex into the kitchen where his mom has turned to drying. Michael can be surprisingly quiet when he needs to so his mom doesn’t really notice there’s one pair of guilty shuffling steps for two boys.

 

“Michael, there’s something we need to talk about,” she starts, turning around.

 

And they’re down another plate.

 

Alex whips his head and tries to glare at him, but the effect is lessened by the bruises. Kind of. His mom stands in the second ruined plate and stares at both of them, mostly at him, with the same level of accusation. Michael’s never been a duck and cower kind of guy, but he really, really wishes the twins were here at the moment. If nothing else, he could hide behind them since they’ve both sprung up like weeds the past few months. But no such luck, it’s just him and his mom and the boy he likes. All glaring at him. Finally his mom and Alex look at each other.

 

“Sorry to scare you Mrs. Guerin,” Alex says, “Michael didn’t say you were home. Let me help you—“

 

“It’s fine,” his mom says quickly, bending down and picking up the shards, “you just caught me off guard. Michael didn’t tell me he was bringing anyone home.”

 

“Michael is in the room,” Michael offers and both of them glare at him, “you two are both really good at that,” he says and figures if he’s going to be killed it might as well be for something good, “I promised Alex ice,” he says.

 

“You also said you weren’t done with your math homework,” Alex says and Michael almost forgot what a snarky asshole Alex can be.

 

“Ice first,” He says.

 

“I should—“

 

“I insist.”

 

Alex looks over at his mom because despite what the black clothes and makeup would tell you, Alex has manners. His mom straightens up and disposed of the shards as Alex hovers there. The urge to whine for his mom not to embarrass him is possibly the strongest Michael’s ever felt. His mom wipes her hands and comes over to where they are. Michael’s still closest to the door and Alex is a little more in the room, but they’re standing close together. Belatedly Michael realizes Alex is trying to turn his head so his mom can’t see the shiner. Michael thinks you could probably see that from space, so it’s not going to do much, but he’s still trying.

 

“Why don’t you sit down at the table? I’ll go get the first aide kit.”

 

“You don’t need to do that, Mrs. Guerin,” He says, “ice is fine,” when his mom pauses, he turns serious, “please.”

 

Something seems to transpire between them that Michael can’t understand but doesn’t fill him with hope for this situation. Nora nods and looks at Michael who tries to do his most subtle puppy eyes that she’s not going to drag him out. Or, worse, call for a family meeting. He prays to every nature god his mom ever told him about that she doesn’t ask for a family meeting. That he gets to sit with Alex, just for a little bit. His mom looks back at Alex.

 

“Have you eaten dinner?”

 

“Yes, Mrs. Guerin,” Alex says, “I was just taking a walk to clear my head.”

 

She nods.

 

“I’ll give you two some privacy.”

 

Death postponed, Michael dives for the freezer and grabs the frozen peas, wrapping them in a towel and coming back over, motioning to a chair. Alex manages to roll his eyes but he sits all the same. Michael isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch him, if he’s supposed to give him the peas—he’s got no idea what the etiquette is in the situation. But hey if he’s going to die, maybe it’s time to go for it. He leans forward and carefully puts the ice to Alex’s eye.

 

The other boy is too surprised at the physical contact to look elsewhere and their eyes lock. Michael doesn’t know why it feels like something has changed. He and Alex have looked at each other before, but this feels different. Maybe it’s because they’re sitting so close together, maybe because he just outed himself to Alex or maybe it’s the impending doom his mother is going to give him when Alex is gone, but Michael feels emboldened enough not to jerk backwards at the contact and just keep his hand there.

 

“Why did you lie about your math homework?” Alex asks.

 

“I didn’t want you just walking around out there hurt,” Michael admits.

 

“I’m fine,” Alex says slowly.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Alex’s good eye narrows and Michael gets the sense that he doesn’t like being challenged much. But Michael holds firm. He may have been lying earlier but Alex knew that. He still came inside. Something tells him deep, deep down Alex doesn’t want to be walking outside hurting either. Or he wouldn’t have come into the house in the first place. He watches as Alex’s tongue runs over his bottom lip and he tries not to think about how it would feel to do that with his own tongue.

 

“I don’t think your mom likes me,” Alex admits.

 

“She doesn’t know you,” Michael says, “I don’t think she likes your dad.”

 

Immediately Alex sours and Michael realizes that the person responsible for Alex’s bruises his probably his dad. He doesn’t want a first aide kit because he has to go home. Now Alex looks down as Michael fights not to let the realization show on his face. Jesse Manes who always talks about honor and family and country is a raging hypocrite who beats his son. Alex always thought it was bullies or something which wasn’t better but at least he got away from them every night. Suddenly the fact that Alex lingers at school and joins every club he can find and has jobs after school makes a lot more sense. When Alex raises his gaze, Michael can see he knows and his features immediately lock down. His hand comes up and wraps around Michael’s wrist.

 

“Just give it another minute,” Michael says and it comes out a lot more aggressive than he means for it to.

 

“You can’t tell anyone,” Alex says.

 

“Tell them whqt?” Michael tries. Alex looks at him angrily and then warily.

 

“I’m serious, Guerin,” he starts and Michael doesn’t like the sound of his last name on Alex’s lips at all.

 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he says, “scouts honor or whatever.”

 

Alex doesn’t react but he doesn’t bolt. He also doesn’t move his hand from Michael’s wrist. Actually the concern comes back into his face and his other hand moves forward before Michael can say anything and flattens against his forehead.

 

“Jesus, you’re hot,” he says.

 

“Well thank you,” Michael replies, going for smooth.

 

“I mean physically, are you sick?”

 

“No,” Michael says, “probably just adrenaline. I went from being bi to bringing a guy home in like 10 minutes.”

 

Alex rolls his eyes and drops both his hands. But he leans a bit more into the ice pack. Michael realizes that he’s made a bunch of awkward bisexual jokes in the past five minutes and wonders how he’s gone from being in the closet to puking rainbows every time he’s around Alex. He really wishes he didn’t stick his foot in his mouth every time he opened it though. He’d like to be cool in front of his crush.

 

“At least you didn’t bring home a straight guy,” Alex offers.

 

“Yeah that would be—“ Michael starts and then realizes what Alex just said. Confusion, hope, everything seems to collide in his stomach like a particle accelerator. Or like he’s swallowed a firework. It’s either incredibly complicated or alarmingly simple, but for the first time Alex smiles something genuine and soft and equally hopeful, “You’re not?”

 

“You know the rumors,” Alex says.

 

“Yeah, but—“ Michael shrugs, “people say all kind of shit, that doesn’t make it true.”

 

“Well that is,” Alex says, “I’m gay.”

 

“Hi, gay, I’m Michael,” Michael blurts out.

 

Alex laughs.

 

Full on laughs and it’s worth every moment of embarrassment, Michael finds. He’ll tell a thousand lame jokes if it gets Alex to laugh like that. All too soon though, Alex regretfully guides his sleeve down. He doesn’t even need to say it for Michael to know he has to go. Michael shoves ice into a ziplock bag before he walks Alex to the door.

 

“Here,” He says and presses the bag into Alex’s hands before he can hesitate.

 

“Thanks,” Alex says finally, “thanks for everything.”

 

“Hey you helped me too,” Michael says, “You’re the second person I’ve come out to.” Alex is surprised but he nods in acknowledgement of the fact, which somehow makes it feel more momentous, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah,” Alex confirms, “see you.”

 

Michael watches him walk away. It feels like Alex has taken his heart with him and left him fireworks in return. He doesn’t have another way to explain what’s happening in his chest. He wanders back into the kitchen, still feeling like he’s floating. Even as he sees his mother come in with a box, the kind you store files in. She looks at him and he sees determination written on her face.

 

“Mom?”

 

“I owe you an apology,” she says, “I thought I was going to be able to spare you, at least until you were a little older. Out of that school,” she sighs, “but we need to talk about Caulfield.”

 

Just the word is enough to bring him back to earth.

 

His mother doesn’t talk about it. At first, she said he was too young but as he got older, he’s seen it’s hard for her to talk about. Whatever happened there was bad. Michael hasn’t pushed her because he hates seeing her sad. She’s his mom. Michael looks at her earnestly and she pinches the bridge of her nose before grasping his hands.

 

“I don’t want you to think that I’m against you and Alex, but I don’t want you to go forward unprepared.”

 

“What do you—“ he swallows, “what does Alex have to do with Caulfield?”

 

“Nothing,” his mom promises, “he has nothing to do with it. As far as I know. But—“

 

“But what?” He looks at her desperately, “mom, just tell me,” he pulls his hand away and holds it up.

 

His mom shakes her head and opens the lid of the box.

 

She doesn’t want to share this memory and the pain of that laces through him. Instead she pulls out a folder and hands it to him. Michael opens it and scans the information as quickly as he can. He wasn’t lying when he said he was having trouble concentrating and a lot of the words are lost. Which is fine because there are pictures. He doesn’t need words as he looks at the photo and the truth hits him like a ton of bricks.

 

Jesse Manes ran Caulfield.

 

Alex’s dad imprisoned his mom.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Michael, sweetheart, you can’t stay in bed forever.” 

 

Michael begs to differ.

 

The boy he really likes is related to the reason that he didn’t have a mom for his first years on earth. Literally. The same blood flows through his veins. He fell in love with him and he was too chicken shit to tell his mom. If he’d told her maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess. She let him stay home Friday. Now it’s Sunday. He knows he has to go to school tomorrow but until then, he can just hide right? The bed dips as his mom sits on the side, scooting so she’s pressed up against his back. 

 

“Did I ever tell you when I turned your father down for a date?” She says, “he pretended to be fine and your aunt came and told me he locked himself in his room and sulked. For a week.” 

 

Michael grips the covers tighter. 

 

“Anyway I thought he was being completely ridiculous about the whole thing. And I refused to date him until he grew up.”

 

“I’m not going to date Alex,” Michael mumbles into his pillow, “so I can stay here.”

 

“Alex seems like a nice boy—“

 

Michael flings the covers back and rolls to look at his mom. She looks worried. Which is another thing he’s done in a very long seventy two hours of bad things. Her eyes are sleepless and her hair is in a messy ponytail, a sure sign she hasn’t washed it in a few days. He has his father’s curls, but he’s acutely aware of the long blonde wave that falls fine and smooth from his mother’s scalp. Right now though he focuses on her eyes. 

 

“His dad locked you up. Of course I’m not gonna date him,” Michael says.

 

“Michael.”

 

“I should have known,” he says, “I should have sensed something was wrong with him,” unable to look a his mom, he tries to haul the covers back over his head but she catches them with her powers and keeps them down.

 

“That’s enough,” she says, “you had no way of knowing and I was careful not to tell you,” she says, “I didn’t want what happened to me to be in your head.” 

 

“So I just fell for the guy whose dad is responsible,” Michael declares, sitting up, “I couldn’t figure out why you didn’t like him. Alex is great. I didn’t realize his dad was a monster!” 

 

His mom softens as Michael folds his arms, aware that the’s throwing something of a temper tantrum. He just has no idea what he’s supposed to do in this situation. He’s too far gone with Alex to just shut off everything he feels. But feeling anything for him feels like he’s betraying the person he loves more than anyone. It’s his _mom_. How is he supposed to pick a boy he likes over her? Michael wants to crawl under the covers and go back to the time before he had any idea what having these feelings felt like. Instead he’s stuck feeling torn between his mom and Alex. 

 

“Michael,” his mom shifts closer to him on the bed, “I know this seems bad. But this is just another secret. You knew you’d need to keep them.”

 

Right. 

 

Michael likes to not think about that part of all of this. Even if Alex’s dad wasn’t a thing—and it absolutely is—the fact of the matter is that telling people he’s an alien isn’t something he can do. Alex can’t know. Not for a long time. He knows the guys who come and check in on them are making sure they’re behaving. That they are being secretive. That no-one knows. He’s lucky, he lives with someone who does. Max and Isobel’s parents don’t know. Can’t know. Michael sometimes feels sick at the thought of them going home and not being able to tell their parents when they have issues with their powers or ask about why they feel a certain way. He’s lucky. He knows that. He’s also been lucky enough to not fall for someone before. Now though he can’t imagine not telling Alex the truth as soon as possible. 

 

Or he couldn’t, when it was just that he was an alien. 

 

All the pictures of Jesse show him with an expression that Michael’s seen on Alex’s face. When he’s being taunted or provoked, but he’s seen it there. His mom is the best person Michael knows. If she managed to get that look on someone’s face, he definitely is capable of doing it. The idea of Alex looking at him like that sends chills up his spine and makes him feel actually queasy. He thought his biggest issue would be Alex being straight. Not his father being the kind of guy who locked up innocents. The fact that his mom hasn’t tried to justify what was done to her pretty much says it all, even without the mind sharing. The guy who did those things produced Alex, the same blood flows through his veins. 

 

But when Michael tries to think of that and draw the connections, all he sees is Alex laughing at his dumb jokes and looking hopeful that he’d see him in the morning. Mostly Michael feels guilty. If he thinks about it, he can picture Alex sitting there looking at his desk. Maybe disappointed or maybe glad. Or maybe wearing the same expression as his dad because the Manes family do horrible, horrible things to aliens and at this point maybe that’s what Alex is bred for. Michael feels a new and bitter wave of self loathing crash over him. How is he supposed to like Alex and not be able to tell him anything? He thought the biggest secret was going to be his crush on him, not this. 

 

“He said he likes boys too,” Michael says lamely, “he might like me.”

 

“He’d be crazy not to,” his mom says.

 

“Crazy like his dad?” Michael supplies. Nora presses her lips together, “God, you know, I thought that telling you I was bi would be the hard part. I didn’t think I had a crush on the son of a psychopath.” 

 

Like he’s a kid again, Nora scoots to the part of his bed that’s pressed against the wall and pulls him to her side. Michael miserably drops his head on her shoulder. She puts her arm around his shoulders, her fingertips drumming against his bicep. She’s tall and it’s still an easy fit, even though he’s much broader than he was the first time they did this. His mom is always enough for him, more than enough. But sometimes he wishes that his dad was around too. So he could tell him how he’s supposed to handle this kind of stuff. Though from what his mom has been saying, apparently his dad wasn’t great with it either. Maybe it’s just a Guerin thing. Being a disaster when it comes to being in love. 

 

“I like him,” Michael says lamely. 

 

“I think that’s wonderful,” Nora tells him, “you should know what being in love is like. With whoever you want to love,” she tightens her grip on his shoulders, “but you need to know the truth. One of you does.”

 

“Because I have to lie to him,” Michael says. 

 

“For now,” Nora confirms. 

 

“What if his dad tries to lock you up again?” Michael questions. 

 

“Then I will call Flotsam and Jetsam.” 

 

Michael manages to smile at the joke. When he was a kid, he had asked his mom who the green wearing men were and she had told him they were Flotsam and Jetsam, from his favorite movie at the time. Even if he would deny it being that because he was an eleven year old boy. But they were green and there were two of them and he never knew their names. Now it’s just their names to him. He’s never thought of them as protectors though, just as people who make sure they’re behaving. Babysitters. 

 

“I think right now you should be thinking about school,” his mom continues, “and getting a haircut,” she adds, “and taking things slowly with Alex. But you should be worried about this other stuff. That’s for your mother to handle.” 

 

Michael sighs and pushes into her shoulder. Nora tightens her grip on him. Ever since he was eleven, Michael has known that this is a safe place. That she’s the safest person to be around. He’s never wanted to be anywhere else. Not before this. Stubbornly he closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of her and the soap she uses, like he can brand it into his memory. Or at the very least, like he can make it take him back to a time when the world made sense. He feels a bit like Alice falling through the looking glass and all he wants is to eat the right thing that will take him home. And pretend that Wonderland isn’t the least bit interesting. 

 

“So why’d you start dating dad?” He asks, “if he locked himself in his room?”

 

“Well I gave him a chance. But before we were wed, I made him swear he’d never lock himself in his room again.” 

 

“I guess you didn’t know it was genetic,” Michael says. 

 

Nora laughs and kisses the crown of his head. 

 

“Sweetheart, why do you think your door doesn’t have a lock?”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Michael is hyperaware of Alex on Monday. 

Like, even more than usual.

He’s been hyperaware of Alex for a while now, but he’s done a good job of hiding it. Or a passable job anyway. Now though even he’s aware that he’s staring at the guy. He can see Max and Isobel doing their twin powers out of the corner of his eye. He loves them but neither are the most observant, which means if they’re aware of him staring then the subject of said staring definitely is. Alex is hyperaware of everything, which has made crushing on him terrifying even before he’s been fully sure there’s a crush there. Now, even though he stares and pleads mentally that Alex is going to turn around and look at him—

Alex doesn’t. 

Alex refuses to. 

Michael can tell, too. No psychic powers needed. Alex won’t look at him. And as the day goes on, frustration becomes so clear that even Liz asks him what’s wrong. Alex shoots her down and goes off to his next class, looking like he’s casual but Michael can see the tension that goes from his shoulders to his jaw. It’s not even hot enough out for that to be the reason. Michael knows that Alex is always in too many layers, though now he knows that he’s hiding bruises. Alex refuses to look at him, refuses to acknowledge him. And he does it in a way that makes it very, very clear that’s what he’s doing. Michael realizes it when he fake sneezes and Alex fully turns his back to him. He wants Michael to know he’s ignoring him. 

So Michael does the only reasonable thing and follows him into the music room. 

“What, Guerin?” Alex demands, cutting all niceties and turning so fast that it’s only then Michael realizes he’s gone into a trap. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Michael questions. 

“Where were you on Friday?” Alex returns. 

“I was sick,” Michael starts.

“Yeah,” Alex says.

There would be something dangerous in his eyes if it wasn’t also so wounded. Michael realizes that he’s upset. And hurt. He’s hurt because Michael wasn’t there on Friday like he said he would be. Michael wishes that didn’t make sense after Alex opened up to him like that the day before. But Michael gets it. Everything in him aches to tell Alex the truth but he know that’s not an option. He can’t tell him what happened and how he spent the next seventy two hours bedridden with his feelings about it. That would mean telling Alex about their parents history together and telling him about his dad. Michael looks down and Alex immediately tugs his sleeves over his hands. Michael’s eyes narrow at the gesture and he looks up at Alex’s face. The hard set of his jaw gets even tighter and Michael doesn’t need to guess at why Alex doesn’t want him to see his wrists. 

“I really was,” Michael says, “I crashed after telling my mom and you being there—“

“Sorry that me being there made you sick,” Alex tells him and there’s so much bitter sarcasm in his voice that Michael wants to swallow his own shoe to keep from saying stupid things, “just forget it, I’m glad you feel better,” he snaps and goes for the door. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Michael says, “would you wait a minute—“ he reaches for Alex who sidesteps him with unnervingly fast speed and turns so quickly that Michael’s almost afraid, “you didn’t make me sick,” he says, “I was planning on telling my mom I just—I wasn’t planning on bringing home the boy I liked.” 

“Whatever Guerin,” Alex says and turns again. 

Michael almost thinks it’s another dismissal before Alex goes peculiarly straight and tense in a different way. Maybe he didn’t hear him. Michael gets like that sometimes, where the voices and the feelings get to be so much he jumbles everything together and it scrambles. Maybe it takes a moment for his words to reach past whatever stubborn fog is in Alex’s head. But they do. Eventually they get there. Michael can see when it happens because Alex’s entire posture and entropy changes. And all Michael can do is hold his breath and wait for him to storm out. Or tell him he’s an asshole and why would someone like Alex ever like him like that? Maybe he managed to ruin whatever their connection was the other night. Or maybe he’s read this all wrong and Alex is just going to let him down and say he doesn’t feel the same. Whatever it is, if his heart is the only shred of honesty he can give Alex then that’s what he’s going to offer him. 

Alex turns around. 

All Michael can think is that he’s really pretty, silhouetted against the yellow light of the hallway and bathed in shadows. Alex locks the door and steps more firmly into the room. He seems to be having a war with himself for a moment before he looks at Michael and tugs up his sleeve. Michael knows that he’s got no way of knowing if Alex feels the same. That there’s a billion very good reasons to think he’s not supposed to touch him. But all of them go flying out the window when he see the handprint shaped bruises that are on Alex’s pale skin. He crossed over quickly and grips his elbow, looking down at the bruises with horror. He had foster dads who did this kind of stuff, but the idea that someone of his own flesh and blood could do it never crossed his mind. But Alex’s dad dug his fingers into his skin and punched him in the face. 

“Alex—“

“He does it because I’m gay,” Alex explains quickly, “if he ever thought I was with a guy,” he stops and shakes his head, “you’ve got a crush on the wrong person.”

“No I don’t,” Michael says stubbornly, but can’t bring himself to hold Alex there as he pulls his arms back, “I don’t care if we can’t be seen together.”

“My dad does this to me,” Alex continues, “and all he talks about is the importance of family. I have no idea what he’d do to someone he’s not related to,” he says. 

Michael wishes he didn’t know the answer to that. 

His mom is evidence of what Alex’s dad does to people he doesn’t like. Michael knows he’s an acquired taste. On some days he only knows for sure that his mom liked him. His mom is the best person he knows and she won’t even tell him the full extent of what the man did to her. Which means it’s truly awful, considering what she’s told him about Antar. He wishes he could say that Alex has no idea, but Alex’s wrists have handprints on them. It makes the secret keeping just even more cruel. It’s not like they’re protecting Alex from thinking of his dad as a monster, that ship sailed a long, long time ago. 

“So?” Michael says. 

“So?” Alex repeats back, “so you could get hurt. I’m not being with anyone until I move out.” Alex says firmly. And there’s something in his eyes that’s almost desperate for Michael to understand that, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Michael questions, almost praying for what he thinks is the reason to actually be the reason. 

Could Alex really like him back?

Is there even a chance?

Michael almost wishes there wasn’t something hopeful threatening to beat out of his chest. He almost wishes that Alex didn’t possibly feel the same way. Because he knows the stubborn look on Alex’s face. He knows that moving him from this position will be next to impossible, if not outright impossible. And he doesn’t want to be another person in Alex’s life who forces him to do something he doesn’t want to. Alex closes his eyes momentarily like he’s in pain and then looks at Michael. It feels like there’s no moisture in Michael’s mouth as he falls into Alex’s gaze. Dimly he thinks he could probably stay in this moment staring into Alex’s eyes forever. That this would be a good place to exist in forever. Or it is, until Alex steps back and shakes his head. 

“Alex?”

“I’m gonna be late for class,” Alex says lamely, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Alex!” 

Alex keeps moving and flees the room. 

It’s the closest Michael’s ever come to using his powers at school. 

Alex flees and Michael realizes that it feels like he’s taken his heart with him. And maybe he has. Maybe his heart is on the other end of Alex’s wallet chain and it’s just going to stay there until Alex moves out. Moves out where? It doesn’t matter. Actually as he runs, Michael’s mind catches up to all the things he wants to say in response. Like how he’ll wait for him and how he’ll make it worth it. He’s got his own secrets, his own things he can’t tell Alex for a long time. He gets it. But none of that comes out before the door smacks shut and he’s just left standing there in complete shock. 

So he does the only thing he can think in the circumstances.

He follows Alex to his after school job. 

Michael hates the UFO Emporium. He always has. His mom hates it, his siblings hate it—it’s a list. He thought that was going to be a sticking point. Though in comparison, the fact that Alex works at the UFO Emporium is the easy thing. Considering, you know, his dad tortures aliens for the government. He sinks down in his car and stares at the hateful building as Alex comes to the ticket counter wearing a customized green visor and turning a sign that declares he’s been abducted around. God, if he only knew there was an alien parked across the road trying to think of a romantic way to do just that. 

The emporium is only open for a few hours after school but if Alex is counting the pennies until he can get away from his dad, Michael thinks it makes sense he’d take every hour he could. Michael swings by the atm and grabs cash because the last thing he needs is his mom seeing a charge for this place on his credit card. He goes up to the window and Alex does a double take. 

“One ticket,” Michael says. 

“We’re only open for an hour,” Alex replies. 

“That should be more than enough,” Michael says, “what are you doing afterwards?”

Alex frowns at him and Michael keeps going. 

“I just want to talk,” he says. 

“I’ll meet you by the spaceships,” Alex says, circling the room he’s talking about on the map. 

Michael takes it, nods and steps inside. 


	6. Chapter 6

Michael doesn’t like the UFO Emporium.

His mom brought him once so that he could understand what people thought of them. Michael had tried to listen but he’d spent a lot of time trying to hide behind his mom too. Max and Isobel had both cried and his mom had explained to all of them that they carried some of the memories. Somewhere deep in their heads. So Max had pushed them down, Isobel had declared them dealt with and Michael had learned to hold the pain in his own way. Like always, according to his mom. Now he’s not sure how successful he was. It’s weird to look at all this stuff. He knows Alex thinks of his job as just that. It’s a job.  Hell half the town works in some kind of alien related thing, it seems like. He’s not sure whether or not Alex believes in aliens.

He can’t help but wonder what Alex’s dad thinks.

He’s seen the pod he came in, it’s weird to see the fake ships suspended there. Along with ‘genuine’ artifacts and statues of fake green men. They come up to his knees. The aliens he knows range from his mom to Max and the shortest is 5’7. He wonders how many of these things you could fit in one of the pods. He’s guesstimating five if their arms are flexible when he hears someone clear their throat. He looks around and sees that the room is empty, except for Alex. Michael is terrified, palms sweating, heart pounding scared. He imagines he’s not going to smell great because of stress which, depending on how this goes, is either going to be gross or wildly inconvenient.

But the second he sees Alex, something relaxes.

It’s like a knot unraveling. He can’t explain it and his mom can’t either. Alex feels like calm, like the eye of a storm. Michael is used to being a storm. A storm that someone stupidly thought to throw skin over. His mom has helped him harness it, but even she can only help. With Alex, one breath is full of chaos and the next is calm. And the only difference is that the dark haired man is in close physical proximity. Michael has the heart of a scientist. He can’t deny what the evidence is showing him, not for something as simple as this. Alex shifts his weight and then tugs his visor off. Michael can’t help but smile when he sees the puff paint. Of course Alex has customized the thing. And of course it’s still not up to his standards.

“You wanted to talk?” He prods.

“Yeah,” Michael says and falls completely silent.

“Okay,” Alex says slowly, fiddling with the back of his visor, “talk.”

Belatedly, Michael remembers he didn’t exactly get this far in his plan.

He’s had an hour and he’s come up with nothing to actually say. As usually the little green men he’s lived side by side with his entire life are utterly useless. Alex stands there and looks at him and Michael’s not sure if the look on his face is impatience or nerves—or even if it really matters. Alex doesn’t want to talk and Michael immediately feels bad for being another person who forces him to do something he doesn’t want to. His eyes trail to the bracelets that circle Alex’s wrists and when he looks up, there’s something guarded in Alex’s expression. He stubbornly holds his hand there before the reflex to hide it overwhelms him and he crosses his arms.

“Guerin—“

“Do you believe in aliens?” Michael blurts out. Alex arches an eyebrow, “I mean, little green men living among us. It’d be pretty wild right?”

“Guerin,” Alex sighs, but he doesn’t relax.

“This town’s high on alien juice, I know, but like do you think the crash happened?” He looks at the wall and then back at Alex.

“You didn’t come here to talk about aliens,” Alex says.

Michael presses his lips together before he can do anything stupid like say he kind of did. He’s not going to tell him, he knows that’s not an option. But he can hint to the idea, can’t he? So one day if he does tell him he won’t hate his guts. Immediately Michael feels like an idiot because he doesn’t even know if Alex likes him. He just has suspicions and half confirmations. He can’t be planning out how to win him back after he betrays the trust in their relationship when he doesn’t even have one with him. Alex has said that he doesn’t want to be with anyone while he’s living at home. Michael can respect that. He swears to himself he can. His mom raised him right. He respects things like that. He just also super wants to get Alex to break that rule.

“I came to talk about what we said in the music room,” he says. Alex’s jaw clenches, “look I get that you don’t want to date anyone while you’re living with your dad—“

“You don’t,” Alex cuts him off, “your mom might not like me, but this isn’t the same.”

“Actually my mom doesn’t like your dad,” Michael corrects. Alex’s brows draw together, “come on, people might not know for sure but your dad’s an ass. Everyone can see it.”

Alex shakes his head and bites down on something that might be the most bitter smile Michael has ever seen on another person. And he’s had Anne Evans look him in the eye and say they don’t have room for three kids. Just two. Something sad is in Alex’s eyes and everything in Michael aches to make it go away.

“We both know that’s bullshit,” Alex corrects.

“Okay but she can see it,” he says, “my mom doesn’t hate anyone except your dad and sometimes Jim Valenti,” the realization bowls into him, “shit,” he breathes. Alex looks away and then back at him.

“It’s not a big deal,” Alex says.

“Not a big deal?” Michael repeats, “your dad owns the police. That’s fucked up.”

“Sheriff Valenti’s a good cop,” Alex protests.

“Yeah except for the fact that he wouldn’t arrest your dad,” Michael says. Alex looks down at his visor and that tells Michael everything he needs to know. When Alex looks up, Michael knows in his bones he’s going to come up with an excuse to leave, “you know my mom adopted me when I was eleven?” He says, “and right before that I was with this group home and they tried to do an exorcism on me. They burned a cross into my forearm.”

“What?” Alex manages to look horrified, “that’s messed up.”

“Yeah,” Michael dismisses, “but when I called the cops, they took his side. I remember seeing them and then they said I should behave,” he looks at Alex, “it was a really shitty feeling.”

Alex looks at him for a moment and then looks down, like he’s collecting his thoughts. Michael doesn’t know if he’s said something good or if Alex is still going to tell him he has to go and get out of there. Michael doesn’t know why he’s still desperate to find common ground with him. To get them on the same page. Is that even possible? All things considered? He can’t pretend he doesn’t want it though, that much is very clear. Their lives would both be so much easier if he just let this, whatever this is, die. Instead he stands there humming with energy and nearly praying that Alex will understand and be on his side. Or they’ll be on the same side. Or something. He’s almost crawling out of his skin when Alex looks up at him hesitantly.

“It’s not something a lot of people get,” he says.

“Yes,” Michael says emphatically, around the relief that’s setting fireworks off in his chest, “it’s always ‘why didn’t you call the police’,” Alex smiles faintly and looks down, “and it’s like I did.”

“So your mom adopted you when you were eleven?” Alex asks and Michael nods, allowing the conversation to turn from what he’s sure is not something Alex likes talking about, “you look alike.”

“Oh, she’s my mom,” Michael says, “biologically,” he adds, “there was a car wreck and we got separated,” he explains, using their cover story, “she found me.”

“That’s really cool,” Alex says. Michael nods, “so you, Max and Isobel are siblings?”

“Max and Isobel are,” he says, “we think of each other that way but I’m only biologically related to my mom,” he remembers that Alex is biological related to his dad, “not that that’s the most important thing when it comes to this—“ he begins.

Alex smiles.

Like actually smiles.

Not sarcastically, but genuinely and underneath all the makeup and the armor Michael can see something soft and gentle. Something that he overwhelmingly wants to protect, in a way that he’s not sure he has the words to articulate. Alex dips his head like that smile is a thing that needs to be hidden and looks up at him through lashes that are far darker and thicker than they have any right to be. Michael’s watched his mom use makeup his entire life, but that’s his mom. He’s seen the finished product on girls he’s liked, but on Alex it’s a whole other level. Or maybe that’s just because he’s never felt the way he feels about Alex before.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I get what you’re trying to say.”

“Good—that’s,” Michael swallows, like the sight of Alex’s smile has made it difficult to speak and maybe it has, “that’s good.”

The silence between them is far more comfortable than it should be. He gets the feeling, again, that he could stand in front of Alex forever and it would be a perfectly acceptable life. For him anyway. Alex breaks first and though he doesn’t look away, he does shift his weight.

“What did you want to talk about?” He tries again, still confused.

Michael’s lips part. He could say something, he really could. Alex seems to understand him and sticking his foot in his mouth hasn’t exactly made him leave. But Michael doesn’t trusts his voice. He looks over at the stupid, useless aliens and then back at Alex, whose tracking his movements. Alex presses his lips together and his eyes track, just for a second, towards Michael’s mouth before they focus back on his face. He wonders if Alex can feel the electricity and reasons that he probably can, if the energy coming off him is any indication. So Michael prays that he’s not about to make this all crash down.

In one smooth motion he steps forward, the back of Alex’s neck and presses their mouths together.

The first thing he registers is that Alex wears cinnamon flavored chapstick.

The second is that Alex isn’t kissing him back.

He’s not shoving him off either, but he’s not kissing him back. He’s ramrod straight, not reacting to anything. Michael pulls away and looks at him. After a moment Alex’s eyes open and he stares at him in complete shock, his lips parting in surprise. He’s surprised and it’s the most endearing thing to see. It’s something Michael hopes is good and that he finds he very, very badly wants to see again. Alex’s eyes search his face, but he doesn’t push him away. Michael knows he’s broader but Alex is strong, Alex could take him—telekinesis aside—and he doesn’t. He stands there and stares and Michael feels himself smile as Alex softens and moves forward, pulling him closer.

And holy shit is Alex a good kisser.

Michael’s mind goes fuzzy as Alex kisses him and suddenly is in charge of the kiss. It’s so easy to follow him as he cups Michael’s cheeks and then his fingers sink into Michael’s curls. Surprise makes him make some kind of noise but when Alex goes to pull back he keeps him there, pressing into the kiss. Alex’s fingers move to his waist and he almost mourns the loss of them against his scalp before Alex pulls him flush to his body and Michael’s brain goes all fuzzy again. Alex finally pulls away and dazed as he is, Michael feels Alex rest his forehead against his and feels the hot puffs of air that leave Alex’s swollen lips.

“We can’t do this,” he says, but his hands grip Michael closer instead of pulling him away.

“Yes we can,” Michael says and Alex lets out a shaky laugh.

“Are you going to contradict everything I say?” He asks.

“Depends,” Michael rasps.

“On?”

“On whether or not you’re gonna kiss me like that again.”

Alex presses his forehead harder against his, like if he does that enough and hard enough, he’ll fall through into a world where he can. He pushes Michael gently, but firmly away and turns, but Michael reaches out and grabs his belt loops. Surprise is on Alex’s face and Michael looks at him, feeling desperation churn in him. He can’t make Alex stay. He knows that. But God he wants him to, especially when Alex is looking at him like that. Michael runs his tongue over his bottom lip and something sparks in Alex’s eyes. Before Michael is fully aware of what’s happening Alex is kissing him again, his teeth digging into Michael’s bottom lip before his own tongue runs over it.

Alex tastes like Red Vines and cinnamon and Michael realizes that standing and looking at him will never, ever be enough.

Not anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

Michael floats home.

There’s no other way to describe it, he doesn’t remember walking so he must have floated. The next thing he knows he’s walking up the path to his house, taking care not to trip into his mom’s flower beds. Alex doesn’t let him leave the emporium anytime close to when he does and Michael, determined to prove that he doesn’t care if no-one knows, walks out first. Actually leaving the UFO Emporium with the biggest grin he’s ever worn is somehow both incredibly incriminating and the greatest cover he’s ever had. He unlocks the door with his keys and throws the broken deadbolt with his telekinesis and steps inside, not even attempting to conceal his smile. 

“Michael, sweetheart, could you come in here?”

Michael floats into the kitchen. There’s something odd in his mom’s voice but that doesn’t matter. At least not until he sees her face. His landing is gentle but his feet are metaphorically back on the ground in an instant. She’s not alone in the kitchen, two dudes in suits are sitting with her. Michael swears mentally because he doesn’t have a death wish. Duh. But he’s about to be killed if the press of her lips is any indication. Carefully he tugs out a chair with his hands and sits down. His mom stands up and for an irrational moment, he wonders if she’s leaving him again. But she just puts a hand on his shoulder and gives the men a look. 

“What’s going on?” He asks. 

“You’re growing up,” the first man says, “urges at your age are—“

“Completely normal,” his mother supplies. 

“We’re not sure about that.”

“Isn’t normal relative?” He says, going for a joke that all the adults trade glances about, “are you gonna tell me about the birds and the bees?” He says, trying again because he’s a stubborn idiot. Now no-one looks at him, “seriously?” He demands and looks up, “Mom?”

He doesn’t want to think his mom called these guys just because he said he had a crush. She wouldn’t do that. Her face is unreadable but—he tries to find moisture in his suddenly dry mouth. Because she wouldn’t. She’s always protected him. Her fingers tighten on his shoulder and he realizes that he’s trying to twist out of her grip. He ignores the two guys and looks at her. Until one of the guys takes pity. 

“Like we said it’s normal,” he says, “to have urges at your age. But we don’t know what mating between you and a human would look like.” 

“Well,” Michael starts, his voice sounding dull and far away, “first I unhinge my jaw and then my second jaw comes out—“

“Michael!” His mother cuts him off. 

“You told them?” He demands, twisting free finally and looking at her directly, “I told you Alex isn’t like that!”

The air seems to get sucked out of the room as the two men trade looks at his mother’s face falls. Whatever she’s told them, it wasn’t that. Michael can’t feel relieved that the betrayal wasn’t that bad because it’s still a betrayal. Worse he’s just dug his own grave. One of them goes to get up, reaching into his pocket and when he tries to reach out with his power, his mother’s pulls him back and blocks him off. Logically he knows she’s right. Illogically he can only thing that he’s about to get Alex into a whole heap of trouble.

“Wait who are you calling?” He demands.

“Michael.”

“No,” he whips around, “mom he’s gonna get in trouble,” he says, grabbing her hand. He doesn’t think to filter things and just pushes it towards her. His mom hesitates, but he wins out and she looks. 

She doesn’t let him see her reaction. 

“Put the phone down,” she says, her voice firm. The man does but Michael isn’t sure if it’s her tone or something else, “I didn’t invite you over for that.” 

“Right,” the second man says and somehow they are all in the same position. 

  
Michael has the overwhelming urge to scream at how insane all of this is. His mom, Jesse’s dad, all of it. He wants to be around Alex, he wants to do all that young love stuff. He wants to float home and not go near the kitchen and whatever this is. He wants to rewind the fucking entire day. Sure on a practical level he knows there’s shit that has to be thought of but he’s so sick of being practical. He’s sick of being an alien. He bites back the urge to say it though and focuses instead on the only thing he can. Getting this over with so he can go back to floating or maybe call Alex. He looks for someone to tell him what the fuck is going on and finally his mom gives in.

“Michael,” She says, “you aren’t human,” Michael rolls his eyes and she looks at him sharply. His ears heat up, “there are things about you that will never be human—“

“We aren’t doing anything,” Michael starts.

“Michael,” She says his name warningly.

“We’re not!” He protests, “and how different can we be anyways? I mean anatomically speaking.”

“This isn’t about anatomy,” she says, “it’s about control,” she presses her lips together, “if you lose control you might hurt him.”

Michael lets out a laugh because the idea is completely ludicrous. He thinks of Alex’s unruly hair and tan skin and perfect smile and the idea of hurting any of it is insane. He wishes it was as simple as that for the shit that actually matters.  He knows that he is going to hurt Alex’s heart. But maybe Alex’ll understand in the hazy someday when it’s right to tell him.  He has to force himself away from his thoughts on Alex to focus back on his mom. She looks at him patiently but firmly. It’s a look Michael knows. Very well. It’s not a look that he’s ever wanted to challenge but suddenly he does. He pushes that away too and looks down at the table.

“Can you help me?” He asks. 

“We’re going to try,” she says. 

It’s not as much of a betrayal but it still stings. For a moment actually everything stings, especially his eyes. But he’s not going to give any of them an excuse to tell him to stay away from Alex, especially this. It still feels like the end of a long held bond between them and Michael can only hope he’s wrong about it. He really likes Alex, but he can’t fathom choosing him over his mom. Fuck, he needs his mom. He’s still a kid in more ways than he wishes he was. But that time feels like it’s slipping away. It’s grey and murky where he is, not clear like it was. They lay out a plan to help him and he should feel grateful but he just feels nauseous. 

“I’m gonna go to my room,” he says and slips out with a hasty thank you that tastes like ash.

“Hey,” Alex says after picking up on the third ring, “what problem are you stuck on?”

Michael catches on all too quickly.

“All of them,” he says.

“Yeah those are hard ones,” Alex says, “let me finish the dishes and I’ll call you back—“ he hears a muffled exchange and then the sound of footsteps before the door closes, “so walk me through it, I’ll see if I can help.”

“My mom tried to give me the talk,” Michael says, “She brought in help.”

“That’s—“ Alex fumbles for the right word to make this a math problem, “strange that you got that,” he says, “why didn’t you just ask your dad? Is he not good at that stuff?”

“Dunno,” Michael admits, “my mom doesn’t like talking about him.”

It’s silent for a moment and he can hear Alex shift in the chair. They’re both in single parent households. Alex’s mom left and his dad was never the same. He never knew his mom with his dad. He never knew his dad at all. It never bugged him really since he had his mom and he hates seeing her sad. Now though he’s started to wonder if his mom’s acceptance would be his too or if his dad would think about him the same way Alex’s dad does. Framing it as a math problem is gonna be hard as fuck but he puts his faith in Alex regardless. 

“Did your mom have a problem with you being gay?” He asks, “I don’t know if my dad would have an issue. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

There’s the sound of another door closing and Alex’s voice takes on an echo.

“She didn’t know.”

“Shit,” Michael swears, “I’m sorry, we don’t gotta talk about it—“

“No it’s fine,” Alex tells him, “long as you don’t mind me being in the bathroom.”

“Does he really have that much of a problem with it?” Michael asks. Alex lets out a sound that makes his heart twist, “you shouldn’t be risking that to talk to me,” he says quickly, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Michael—“

“Seriously,” Michael says, “tomorrow.”

It hurts to hang up but he does. He’s not gonna risk Alex getting hurt so they can talk about shit neither of them can fix. Instead he shuts off his phone and grabs his actual books because school is still a thing he has to deal with. He tries not to think about how everything feels like it’s slipping away and out of his control. Michael has spent most of his life in his own little bubble. It almost feels wrong letting someone else in, it feels like a betrayal because he wants to let them in. 

He’s not used to needing anything from the outside world.

He’s drumming his pencil against his desk since the math homework isn’t taking up much of his brain and he doesn’t really want to think about his other things. He’s so focused on what he’s not focusing on that he misses everything until there’s a knock on his window. He whips around, his power buzzing through him but it doesn’t erupt. Or not really. His computer tower lifts slightly off the ground but you can’t see it from the window. Or he really hopes you can’t because Alex is at the window. He waves as Michael remembers how to breathe, set down his computer monitor and get to his feet. 

Alex is at his window.

They stare at each other for a moment before Michael remembers how to open the window. But even then they still stand there staring at each other. 

“Hey, uh, you’re not getting in trouble being here are you?”

Alex grins and Michael feels like he’s forgotten his own name.

“Less trouble than talking on the phone,” Alex says, “can I—“

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he fumbles, “do you need a hand?”

Alex shakes his head, plants his hand and hauls himself up through the window. Michael tries to calm his pounding heart by thinking about how this is like the start of a bad porno. Though what that would make him is something he doesn’t want to think about. Alex climbs in dressed all in black with gloves that have the fingertips cut off. He tugs his hand through his hair and Michael swears he can see the visor that Alex probably hates. Alex smiles at him but it looses its edge. Michael decides in a heartbeat he’d rather keep that smile on Alex’s face than do anything.

“Too bad for you,” Michael begins, “I finished the homework.”

Something dark and super fucking hot sparks in Alex’s eyes as he takes the paper from Michael’s hand.

“You got one wrong,” he says. 

“What?” He snags the paper from him, “no I didn’t—“

Alex snorts and Michael blushes hotly. Is he supposed to play stupid? But the humor is in Alex’s eyes along with whatever that fucking hot look is that makes Michael want to rip their clothes off and pin him to the bed. He presses his lips together around his own self deprecating smile and shakes his head at his own ridiculousness. 

“You panicked,” Alex says.

“No I didn’t,” Michael tries to argue but Alex chuckles, “okay maybe but it wasn’t wrong—“

“I think it’s nice you care,” Alex says. 

“I just don’t like being wrong,” Michael says, “does anyone?”

Alex ducks his head and pink appears on his cheeks. The air in the room seems to spark suddenly and Michael really, really hopes this isn’t some strange power. 

“I didn’t think you were bisexual,” Alex admits and the math homework suddenly doesn’t really matter. 

“I didn’t think you liked me,” Michael replies.

“I didn’t think you were going to let me in.”

Michael feels emboldened suddenly and steps the last little bit towards Alex.

“I don’t think we should make out on my bed.”

Alex ducks his head.

Alex proves him wrong, but Michael was kind of hoping he would. 


End file.
